


cast no shadow

by bevcrushers (dothraloki)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 00:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11886288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dothraloki/pseuds/bevcrushers
Summary: a glimpse of tom and harry in their early days, getting drunk in sandrine's bar





	cast no shadow

Tom can hardly believe they’ve been on Voyager for three months. It seems like only yesterday he was back on Deep Space Nine watching that fresh-faced ensign digging himself deeper into that hole with the Ferengi. He smiles at the memory - Harry, so earnestly naive it was a wonder he’d progressed beyond a cadet.

And now here they are, in Sandríne's, three months on - so close he sometimes feels like he could’ve known Harry a lifetime. So close that he sometimes can’t imagine what it was like before him. He wonders if it’s healthy, being attached to somebody like that -  but really, if he’s being honest, he doesn’t much care. Tom’s never been all that healthy in the first place.

They down another shot of that nasty Talaxian stuff - the stuff that burns all the way down. Tom’s getting that numb feeling behind his eyes, blood buzzing pleasantly. Harry looks a little worse for wear, but then again, he could never hold his liquor. He grimaces at the taste and Tom laughs.

"What?" 

"You," Tom smirks. "Look at you."

"Shut up," Harry slurs, but there’s a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he slumps back against his chair, head resting on Tom’s shoulder.

And Tom feels it again. It’s a feeling he gets sometimes - something big, just behind his mind, just out of grasp. He doesn’t even really know what it is. He won’t let himself look at it, think about it, define it because it’s too scary, and it’s too much and it would wreck things. And he can’t let that happen. It’s too important - Harry’s too important.

But now, here, in Sandrine’s, Harry slumped against Tom’s shoulder, alcohol flowing freely through his veins, he feels like he could say it - like he should say it.

"Harry?"

Harry opens one eye and looks up at him expectantly.

He closes his mouth. Swallows. “You know what? Never mind.”

 


End file.
